WE  have gas! Our morning started with a quasimoto style clanging harmonized with one of the three tenors, belting out a call to arms or a call to prayer or just a “come and get it” call. Our minds catch up with our ears and translate the sound of the clanking of the gas tanks on the truck outside. We scramble to the balcony and ask for, “dos, por favor!” The gas tank man held up two fingers and nodded at us, confirming our order. We laugh at the frantic simplicity of it.

Our stove and the apartment’s hot water run on gas streaming from a tarnished orange tank under the sink. Without warning, this tank will run out of gas so it’s important to stock up. Our first experience resupplying went quite well, despite the price increase for the tanks, now 14 Euros – 4 Euros more than our landlord quoted. The truck comes by three times a week which is a blessing and a curse. The frequency will be much appreciated if we ever completely run out of gas, but waking up to tank clanking on Saturday morning is less than desirable.

Thanks to the tank, the stove is up and running and I can cook fajitas tonight! And we will call it – Martes de Mexicano. For the entirety of my twenties thus far I have been celebrating Taco Tuesday. Spain doesn’t recognize it as an official holiday, most notably because “taco” doesn’t sound as good paired up with “Martes” (Spanish for Tuesday). Thankfully “Martes de Mexicano” connotes the same idea that delicious Mexican food should be eaten on this day and the new title even allows us to veer outside the realm of tacos. Enter: fajitas and chili.

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  1. >Without warning

    Er, get a gas gauge to see what the level is?

    In fact, get a few bottles and daisy-chain them together so that when ones runs out the next takes over. Or, get two lots and swap them over back-and-forth. This is of course what intelligent people do Caitlyn, lol.

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